In Two Parts
by hilaryclaire
Summary: Missing/Post scenes for War Crimes...
1. Part One: Long Walk Home

~Title: In Two Parts – A War Crimes Follow-up Story  
  
~Author: Hilary Claire (email to: hilary_claire_@hotmail.com)  
  
~Spoilers: Relevant War Crimes Spoilers. Everything up to then is, at most, alluded to.  
  
~Rating: PG  
  
~Description: It's a post ep. For War Crimes. We know they made it back to the office and back to normal eventually, but what happened to get Josh and Donna from point A to point B?  
  
~Pairings: A definite Donna and Josh focus. While I ship in the Donna/Josh direction on occasion, this piece was not written during such an occasion.  
  
~Archive: Tell me where you want to put it and there's a good chance I'll say yes...  
  
~Author's Notes: This started as an idea that I thought would be one page, at most. Something obviously happened while I wasn't looking, because now my little Follow-Up is seven pages long and in two parts. Whoops... Should be noted that the parts were also written at different times; the first immediately after I saw War Crimes, and the second after I saw the rerun and remembered I wrote something in the first place. Hence, the chapters are very different, stylistically and in their overall tone. (At least, that's what I think...)  
  
~ Feedback: This is my first ever West Wing Story-esque piece. Comment, or constructively criticise, if you so choose, to hilary_claire_@hotmail.com.  
  
~ Disclaims: "I'm only a guest!" – Colonel Mustard, CLUE. I can use the same logic or at least I can paraphrase ... "I'm only a really obsessive fan!" No, I do not think I have any sort of ownership over these characters. Ownership really belongs to one of the following entities: Aaron Sorkin. NBC. Warner Brothers. John Wells Productions... You get the idea.  
  
~*~  
  
In Two Parts  
  
~*~PART ONE:  
  
Donna sits on the bench. It is freezing outside; at least, Donna feels a chill in the air. She isn't sure if it is the weather that is making her cold, or just a sensation of cold, brought on by the fact that she knows she's done something horrible and she isn't sure if it will be okay or not.  
  
Josh, seated next to her, says, "It'll be okay." It is almost as though he read her thoughts.  
  
However, Donna still isn't convinced. Oh, she knows that Josh wouldn't lie to her about something like this, and she is convinced that if Josh didn't believe, he wouldn't have said it. But still, she can't help but wonder if maybe Josh is thinking with a bit of a bias, and if his judgement is little bit clouded.  
  
So, Donna doesn't say anything. Instead, she continues to stare off into the distance, trying not to cry and nearly loosing that battle several times. She's happy Josh isn't trying to talk to her; she knows she wouldn't be able to carry on any conversation with him right now.  
  
Josh finally asks her, "What time is it?" But Donna is so lost in her thoughts, that she doesn't hear him until he reaches out, touches her shoulder. At this, she jumps.  
  
"Sorry?" She asks.  
  
"What time is it?" He says again. "I told him he had an hour to read it."  
  
She pulls her hand out of her coat, and, feeling the cool night air on her wrist, checks her watch. "He has five minutes," she tells him, her voice monotone.  
  
"Donna, you okay?" Josh asks, and she can tell he is genuinely concerned for her.  
  
"Yeah," she lies. Then, "No. I just want to go home."  
  
"Just a few more minutes," he says, in an attempt to reassure her. It doesn't work though, and Donna continues to stare straight ahead.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Cliff on the other side of the park, walking towards the fountain – towards the bench on which she still sits. She breathes in deeply, and part of her wishes she could go talk to him, part of her wishes she had never met him, but mostly, she wishes she could disappear. She wishes she didn't feel so useless, that she didn't have to rely on Josh to clean up this mess she has managed to get herself into. She wishes she was strong enough to face Cliff on her own, right at this moment, but she knows that she can't. For this, she does not berate herself – she can't think of a single person who would feel comfortable talking to a person who just went through almost two years of their life in an hour. She feels terribly exposed, and when the wind blows, it stings her face. To her left, she can feel Josh stand up. He starts to walk away, but turns back and puts his hand on her cheek.  
  
"It's going to be fine Donna," he tells her again. She is looking down, but he gives her a boyish smile anyways. Her eyes peer up uncertainly and she sees his smile, but then he turns away, to retrieve Donna's most prized possession from the lawyer who is, by this time, hovering near the fountain.  
  
Donna listens to Josh's footsteps as he walks away. She listens to him and Cliff as they talk in hushed tones. She can remember when she was a kid, and when her parents wanted to have a discussion about something she had done. They would tell her to stay in her room and they would disappear into the kitchen to have their discussion. As a child, Donna would always come out of her room before they came to get her, and stand in the hallway, far enough away from the kitchen door that she could run back to her room if she thought her parents were going to come down the hall, and close enough so she could hear bits of the conversation. She could never really make out the substance of the discussion; all she ever heard were the muted, muffled voices of her mother and father. Tonight, she sits on this cold park bench, and all she can hear are the muffled voices of Josh and Cliff.  
  
She does not look up.  
  
Then Josh returns. The time he was gone has stretched into eternity in Donna's mind, but she looks at her watch and finds out he has been gone for merely a minute. He hands her the leather bound book, and she notices the velvet ribbon has been retied. She ponders the irony of this – Cliff has just read her innermost thoughts of the past year and half, and he takes the time to retie the ribbon. She takes the book from Josh cautiously, as though she is afraid her diary will not forgive her for the horrible breach of trust when she let somebody else read it. She wonders how she will be able to confide in it again; even going home tonight to write about what has happened seems like an alien concept. In reality, she is more worried about how Josh will even entrust her with any information again, after she has breached his trust twice in two short weeks.  
  
She is still holding her diary in her hands, which rest on her lap. She wants to know, but she stares down, unable to look at Josh, or ask the question.  
  
"Donna, it's fine," Josh tells her again, but this time he knows it is true. He kneels in front of her and places a firm hand on her shoulder. "He won't subpoena it. He doesn't want to bring charges."  
  
Donna exhales, audibly, but she still can't look up. "Okay. Good." She mumbles.  
  
Josh stands up and says, "Come on. It's been a long day. I'll walk you to your apartment."  
  
Donna sighs again. She wants to home, where she tells herself she'll feel better, safer, and perhaps not quite so exposed. She stands up. "I'll be fine on my own Josh."  
  
But Josh has already started to walk from the bench, and Donna is speaking quietly, so he is unable to make out her words. "Beg pardon?" He asks.  
  
"If you have work to do or something... I mean you've already spent a lot of time on this thing today, so if you want to go, I'll be fine walking home on my own." Donna says this with difficulty, her words tumbling out awkwardly. Josh notices it is the first sentence with more than six words to come out of Donna since she first told him of her mistake earlier that day.  
  
"Yeah?" He asks, and she thinks maybe he'll let her go alone. "Well, you'll be fine walking with me, too. Let's go."  
  
"Josh," she starts, softly, timidly.  
  
"Donna," he answers, equally softly. "Let's go, it's ... freezing out here."  
  
"Yeah." She says, and she takes the arm he offers to her. She remembers last Christmas, when Josh needed a friend, and she was there to walk with him. That seems like eons ago, but then, asking Sam for advice for the deposition seems like eons ago too. Donna shakes her head, as if to get her thoughts, or at least her sense of time, in order. It doesn't work.  
  
So, Josh and Donna walk, arm in arm through the Capitol City until they reach Donna's apartment. Josh tries to distract Donna with some mindless conversation, small talk that their conversations usually thrive on but tonight she doesn't respond. He doesn't blame her. After a few attempts, he gives in and they walk the rest of the way in silence.  
  
Donna is impatient to get home, if for no other reason than so she can escape Josh's scrutiny, at least until the morning when they will be at the office. It won't be so bad tomorrow, Donna is convinced. Because tomorrow, they will be in the office again, and Donna will make sure Josh gets to all his meetings on time, and Josh will make sure he hollers for her to find him literature on this or that, and she'll tell him not to yell and that it's already on his desk. Tomorrow, Donna tells herself, normalcy will return in some mundane form  
  
They are still walking, Josh worriedly, and Donna anxiously, and they soon reach Donna's street. At Donna's door, there is another awkward moment, and this time Donna is the one to add a bit of normalcy to it.  
  
"Thanks for walking with me Josh," she says, and she means it. She also means to thank him for helping her, for taking care of her, for fixing it.  
  
"Yeah, don't worry about it." Josh reacts to her gratitude as he always does, by shrugging it off. He bids her good night, and Donna watches as his figure retreats the way they came. 


	2. Part Two: Show of Gratitude

For Disclaims, Notes, and all that fun stuff, please see Part One...  
  
  
  
PART TWO: Show of Gratitude  
  
The next morning when Josh arrives at the bullpen outside of his West Wing office, he is surprised when Donna's chair is empty. He thinks she might be is in his office, straightening his notes before he comes in, but she's not there either. Josh frowns, takes off his coat and hangs it behind the door. He flops onto the chair at his desk, as though it is the end of a tiring day at the end of the week, rather than early Monday morning. Josh blinks, tells himself he has to focus, and turns to the papers desk. And that is when he finally notices it.  
  
On his desk sits a cup of coffee, not a styrofoam cup from the mess or the vending machine down the hall. No, this coffee is from Starbucks. He cautiously lifts the lid, and steam drifts out, lazily. Did Donna get me coffee? Josh wonders if his wish has come true. Wondering if Donna is trying to poison him, he lifts the cup, and sees the note. It is unsigned; but Josh easily identifies the distinctive loopy handwriting as Donna's. Josh reads it carefully:  
  
"Josh. Don't ask questions, just please read the last entry. The page is marked. Thanks."  
  
He frowns, and for the first time sees the leather bound book with the red velvet ties around it, carefully placed next to the coffee. He looks at the note again, then back at the diary.  
  
He considers this for a moment, and takes a sip of the bitter, scalding coffee.  
  
"Donna," he bellows, looking towards the door, waiting for her to appear. Belatedly, he remembers that she wasn't there a moment ago, so he gets up to go look for her.  
  
Donna is wandering the halls of the West Wing aimlessly. After she left her diary and the note with the coffee on Josh's desk, she decided to go for a walk. She wonders if he's gotten to the office yet, if he's seen the note, if he's read it. She passes Sam as she walks by the communications bullpen. "Hey Sam," She greets him, wondering if she looks as nervous as she feels.  
  
"Morning, Donna." Sam replies, as he wanders into Toby's office. Donna walks past Toby's door, and Sam calls out to her. "I think Josh was looking for you."  
  
Donna blinks, wondering why Sam mentioned it, thinking he knows something is going on. But she's being paranoid – Josh is always looking for her. "Thanks Sam," she says, her voice deceptively monotone.  
  
And so, Donna slowly makes her way back to Josh's office. When she gets there, he is pacing back and forth in front of her desk.  
  
"Morning Josh," she says, trying for bright and cheery and, well, normal. It doesn't work.  
  
"Donna, what's going on?" Josh asks her.  
  
"What do you mean..."  
  
"Did you bring me coffee this morning?" He looks at her.  
  
"Let's talk in your office." Donna suggests, moving past him. The first thing she does when she gets there is look to see if her book has been disturbed. It hasn't been – or if it has, Josh has put it back exactly how it was.  
  
Josh follows her, wordless closing the door behind them and walking to the far side of his desk, where he flops down in his chair for the second time that morning.  
  
"What's going on?" He asks again.  
  
"You're not going to thank me for the coffee?" She asks him, her voice laced with deadly sarcasm and enhanced by the fact that she doesn't smile. She sits on the chair on the other side of Josh's desk, as though she is some rebellious schoolgirl who has been called to the principle's office.  
  
"Donna," Josh is becoming frustrated now, and Donna finds her courage and dives in.  
  
"Josh, about last night…" Donna starts, then falters. "It was something you really didn't have to help me with, but you did. And I know you're still pissed at me Josh, and that's totally understandable. I'm pissed at me right now." Donna pauses for a breath, and Josh cuts her off.  
  
"So that's why you brought me coffee? Because you think I'm pissed at you?" Josh is incredulous.  
  
"No. I brought you coffee to thank you for helping me out. I brought you coffee because you were mature enough to see past how hurt you were and do something nice for me. I brought you coffee because you were unbelievable supportive last night. And because I can't even begin to imagine how much worse things would be if I faced Cliff without you. I brought you coffee, because it is something I wouldn't ordinarily do, and it was hard for me, and I know what you did for me last night was hard for you. I didn't bring you coffee because I think you're pissed at me." Donna pauses, and this time Josh doesn't jump in. "You didn't read it did you?"  
  
Josh blinks. "I read the note," he tells her.  
  
"Not the..."  
  
"No, Donna, I didn't read your diary. The only person who should ever read your diary is you."  
  
Donna sighs, and Josh can see her shoulders fall.  
  
"This disappoints you?" He asks, sensing he is about to launch into some sort of lecture. His senses about these things are rarely wrong. "Donna yeah, I was pissed at you. I was really pissed at you, mostly for going out with Cliff Calley and then, yeah, I was pissed that you lied –"  
  
"Shut up," Donna interjects softly, so softly that Josh doesn't hear her, and keeps on going.  
  
"-- at the thing yesterday. I was pissed that you didn't tell me about all of this a little sooner and that you didn't – "  
  
"Shut up" Donna says again, this time quite vocally. Josh blinks, his rant put on hold.  
  
"I'm... what did you say?" Josh questions.  
  
"Shut up, Josh. You thought I didn't know all of that?" Donna pauses, and again Josh doesn't fill the silence. "I know more than you think I do. I even understand how pissed you are at me. But I said that before. I just –" Donna stops again, to look down at her hands, and mentally regroup. When she finally looks up, she looks directly at Josh who, she notices isn't looking at her either. "I just wanted to say thank you."  
  
"What do you want from me, Donna?" Josh asks, after a sizable and suitable awkward silence.  
  
"I wanted to say thank you," she sighs, waiting for his response.  
  
"You just did. Twice." He points out, making it clear that she's not off the hook yet. His cynicisms are uncharacteristically bitter this morning, she notices and she is tired of sitting there absorbing his bitterness. So she stands up.  
  
"I'm her saying thank you, Josh. Is it so difficult for you to say you're welcome??" She asks him incredulously.  
  
Josh's face softens, surprisingly, and he shrugs. "We've had this conversation already."  
  
"Josh - -" Donna starts, warningly.  
  
"I told you it was no big deal," Josh raises his hand for emphasis.  
  
"Josh - -" Donna is now noticeable annoyed.  
  
"Yeah," he looks up at her from where he is still sitting on the far side of his desk.  
  
"I'm saying thank you," she insists, her eyes piercing his.  
  
"And I'm saying don't worry about it!" Josh looks down to avoid her searching gaze  
  
"Josh..." she whispers, and her tone has changed from the angry and commanding voice that it was a minute ago, to something smaller, younger, more fragile or more innocent. And so, Josh looks up, into the eyes that a moment ago were boring through him, and that now looks so tired and ready to break.  
  
"Thank you," she tells him, now aware that she has his full attention.  
  
"You're welcome," he replies, with a tenderness that crept into his voice while he wasn't paying attention.  
  
Donna lets out a breath and smiles slightly. Deftly, she reaches out to take back the diary - - her diary. And at once, their relationship turns back into one of poised professionalism. "You have Senior Staff in five minutes." She turns to head out, back to the bullpen where the day has now officially begun. She reaches the door, and is just opening it when Josh calls her name.  
  
"Yeah?" She asks, turning back to face him.  
  
"Thanks for the coffee," he tells her, smiling, showing his dimples.  
  
A strange look passes over Donna's face. "Yeah, it was nothing," she shrugs, and it doesn't escape Josh's notice that the twinkle has returned to her eyes as she turns, once again, to go.  
  
"Donna - -" Josh starts, but Donna doesn't let him finish.  
  
"You're welcome, Josh," she laughs, and she leaves his office, leaving him to stare after her.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
comments are most welcomed and can be directed to hilary_claire_@hotmail.com  
  
~*~ 


End file.
